The Heart of Noonvale
by Charlotte Maybe
Summary: A fox wanting to be good, a squirrel who speaks like a hare, a hedgehog Abbot...if this isn't making any sense, you'd better read!
1. The Heart of Noonvale - Chapter 1

The Heart of Noonvale  
Chapter 1  
  
Bluebell was a hare with slightly bluish fur, and the captain of the  
Long Patrol. At the moment she was carrying a small green sack, with  
the handle of a sword sticking out of the top and an important message  
inside, as she walked along the dirt road leading to Redwall Abbey.  
Her large feet thwacked along.  
Bluebell was very hungry, though it had been not two hours  
since her last meal. But she was a hare, after all.  
"Oh, well, la-de-da!" she exclaimed upon discovering some wild  
berries. "This is nice! Some fruit t'tide me over! Well, I'm glad  
nobeast is here to witness this lovely hare scoff some well-earned  
vittles!"  
As she reached out to pluck the berries off the bush, she  
heard a scream: "YAAAAAAAGH!!! INTRUDER!!!!!!!"  
Bluebell was yanked into the bush and ordered to surrender by  
a group of angry shrews.  
"Why, you're nothing but a band o' bally shrews!" she cried in  
exasperation. "What would I have to do with you chaps?"  
"Beasts like you are stealing our food!" yelled a small shrew.  
"Nobody steals from the Guosim!"  
"The Guwot?" said Bluebell, fiddling with her ears.  
"Guosim! Oh, has nobeast heard of us nowadays? The Guerilla  
Union of Shrews in Mossflower!!!"  
"Oh, well, you don't have to yell," said Bluebell. "I'm off to  
Redwall Abbey. T'see the h'Abbot, if ya must know."  
"Redwall Abbey!"  
"She must be some good!"  
"What fools we were!"  
"Oh, don't worry," said Bluebell with a chuckle. "I've been a  
fool m'self sometimes. Just let me pass and take some berries, would  
you?"  
They did.  
  
Meanwhile, at the Abbey, a small hedgehog (not a Dibbun--he was small  
but older than you imagine) named Grunn Softspikes sat down and  
started writing. He didn't know what he was writing, but he did  
anyway.  
When he had finished, he stopped and stared at what he had  
recorded.  
  
Take the one whose aim and heart are true  
Help a lord, he will be kind to you.  
Find a hare with coloured fur  
And the mouse whose running makes him a blur.  
And the good-hearted enemy will see I  
And will lead you to the cat that cries.  
  
A knock on the door interupted his thoughts.  
"Come in."  
A young squirrel with a food platter stumbled in backwards,  
assisted by two mice.  
"Steady there, Ferrie..."  
"...y'don't want to trip!"  
Ferrie giggled. "Mister Abbot Grunn, sah, got some grub for  
yah. These two rascals kindly assisted me."  
The hedgehog Abbot smiled. "Thank you, Ferrie and Sam and  
Daniard." The two mice saluted smartly and ran off, Sam struggling  
to match Daniard's quick pace. Ferrie was about to walk away when the  
Abbot added, "Ferrie, stay here, please."  
"Sure thing, Mister Abbot, sah. Wotcha want?"  
"Come look at this."  
Ferrie sauntered over and looked over the piece of parchment  
once, then twice.  
"My, my," she muttered. "This beats all! With all due respect,  
Abbot, sah, how'd y'ever dream this up and wot does it mean?"  
"I have no idea, and I was wondering if you knew."  
"Not really. Mebbe Miz Runa knows. She's been around for quite  
a long time, eh!"  
"Well then, go fetch Runa, please, and tell her I sent you."  
"Sure thing, Mister Abbot sah," said Ferrie, and she ran off.  
Grunn shook his head as he ate. He was a bit worried about  
that Ferrie. A squirrel who spoke like a hare! Now that, thought Grunn  
to himself, beats all.  
  
Kira walked slowly along the path, adjusting his hood and making sure  
it hid his ears.  
Kira was a fox, but he wanted to reform. So he was travelling  
to Mossflower Woods, wearing a long robe that disguised his seemingly  
sinister form.  
Behind him he heard a hare's voice as it walked by, singing  
happily. He also heard the feet whacking along in time.  
  
"O lackaday, wot I wouldn't do,  
For a bowl o' my dear ole auntie's stew!  
When it's scoffed wit' carrots'n pudden'n pie,  
Tis marvellous! But alas, I'll die  
'Coz I'm stranded here, a pretty hare  
But I won't die wit'out a caaare!"  
  
Kira resisted the urge to use his stolen shrew-rapier on this  
unsuspecting hare, and silently wept instead. This would've been a  
prime position for any vermin wanting to take a slave.  
He heard the hare cry, "Oi, a suspicious beast!" The footsteps  
behind him quickened.  
"Oho!" cried the hare, catching up to Kira. He saw it was  
female. "And wot's your business, sah?"  
The fox gritted his teeth. "I'm heading for Redwall Abbey!" he  
said in a bright, fake voice.  
"Oi! That's where I'm 'eaded too, to give the h'Abbot a  
message. Small world, wot?"  
"No kidding," said Kira. "Would you like to travel with me?  
I'm sure we'd make a great pair!"  
"Hmmm." The hare sat down to think. "Why are you goin'? Ya  
wagin' war or somethin'?"  
Kira reached inside his cloak and pulled out a large bag of  
sugared berries. "I have to give these to the Redwallers--but oh dear,  
what if they don't like it? After all, it must pale in comparison to  
the great Abbey feasts...and I have such a small appetite, I couldn't  
finish them off all by m'self..."  
The hare jumped up. "Say no more, sah! Name's Bluebell. Wot's  
yours?"  
Kira paused. His band of renegade foxes had been notorious  
around the Salamandastron area, and he had been captain. He didn't  
want Bluebell to warn everyone in the area and have him killed.  
"My name," he said, "is Dennon."  
"Jolly well pleased t'meetcha, Dennon! Now, how about those  
berries?"  
Kira/Dennon laughed. "Patience, patience, Bluebell. We have to  
see if the Abbot likes them first!"  
"I hope 'e does, considerin' you're such a nice fellow, but I  
hope 'e doesn't, too, so I could polish 'em off for ya!" Bluebell  
grinned.  
"We'll see, we'll see."  
  
Ferrie clambered up onto the wall of Redwall Abbey facing a  
dirt path leading into Mossflower Woods. Her keen eyes scanned the  
area as her paws prepared to load her bow. She thought she saw two  
figures on the horizon...  
"Hoi, Miz Furrie, wotcha doin' up thurr?" said a voice from  
beneath her.  
"Yah, and wit' a full quiver o' arrows, too!" added another  
voice.  
"Jes' lookin', mister Foremole and mister Skipper, sahs," said  
Ferrie, jumping off the wall. "And wot're you doin'?"  
"Moiself an Hurroo an miz Runa 'ave been a-bakin' sum deeper  
'n ever poi! Largest one in th'records!" said the Foremole.  
"Mmmm, sounds positively delicious, mister Foremole sah! And  
wot have you been up to, Skipper? No good as usual?"  
"Hah! I've been 'elpin Nunn Sof'spike and th'Dibbuns in th'  
cellar. Made a mess o' 'im, those Dibbuns did!"  
Ferrie giggled. "Oh dear, wot's the h'Abbot gonna say?"  
"Hurr, 'e'll larf at 'is brother for sure!" said the Foremole.  
"An' then we'll feed 'im some good ole hotroot soup and 'e'll  
stop laughin'!" added Skipper, winking at the squirrel.  
"I'll taste it for you first, sah!" said Ferrie.  
"Come with us then!" said Skipper, and he took Ferrie's paw.  
Together they walked into the Abbey, the Foremole close behind.  
Ferrie smiled at the end result of her talk with the Skipper,  
but wondered about those two in the distance. She felt a chill in her  
spine. It made her feel colder than usual. Oh well, she thought, the  
hotroot soup'll clear that up! 


	2. The Heart of Noonvale - Chapter 2

The Heart of Noonvale  
Chapter 2  
  
Popra Redclaws Treebender was the leader of a band of wild mice. He had named  
himself, for he had the strength to bend trees, and his claws were permanently  
stained red with the blood of his enemies. Popra (that was the only part he  
retained of his given name) was father to three daughters and three sons.  
These mice were not planning, gentle mice like the ones at Redwall  
Abbey. They were ready to attack anything occupying what could be theirs, and  
they all agreed the current thing to drive out were those blasted Redwall  
Abbey creatures.  
And Popra's family was not alone. They had a few foxes on their side,  
looking for plunder after their captain Kira the Murderous had abandoned  
them. They also had a legion of rats and stoats, even a ragged but loyal pine  
marten.  
It was night. Popra sat by the fire, sharpening his dagger.  
"Da, we're out o' trout," reported one of his daughters, a lean mouse  
named Gera who was missing part of one ear.  
"Take Jutta with ya and get s'more," growled Popra. "We'll have carrot  
stew t'night instead."  
"Carrot stew!" remarked one of his sons, Kerr, from his lookout perch  
in a branch. "I hates carrot stew, da. Couldn't ya just make mincemeat out of  
one o' them rats?"  
"I needs every one of those rats, Kerr," said Popra, rising. "An' I  
just sharpened me dagger, so mebbe I could make mincemeat out o' YOU!"  
"Don' fight, Popra," said his wife Lalli, brandishing her ladle. "Y'  
also need every one o' your kin! An' you, Kerr!" she added, turning to her  
son, "y' big fat ingrate! There are beasts out there who don' have a crumb o'  
bread between 'em! So take wotcher given!"  
"In Redwall Abbey they don' have carrot stew," said Mat, the third  
daughter, as she helped Lalli prepare a thick broth.  
"All the more reason f'r us t' conquer it!" said the chubby Jutta with  
an evil grin.  
"Stop gloatin' and help me get that trout!" said Gera, yanking Jutta  
by the ear.  
"Agh! Help! Maaaaaaaaaa!" screeched Jutta as she was dragged towards  
the pond. The sight was so comical the whole camp broke out into laughter,  
excluding Popra.  
"Shaddup, all o' ya!" he screamed. Silence fell. Even Jutta had  
stopped howling by now. "Those goody-beasts up there don' know we're here,  
and we don' want them on their guard any time soon!"  
"They've got a badger wit' them," said Popra's son Hilar quietly,  
dicing carrots.  
"We've got a pine marten wit' us!" said three of the foxes from the  
back.  
"An' Redclaws Treebender!" added the last one hastily, noting the  
look the vicious leader shot their way.  
"An' we'll be unstoppable, hopefully," said Popra, looking at the  
sleeping abbey. Soon, it would belong to no one but the Treebender tribe, and  
the only abbot in the new written history would be their leader, Popra  
Redclaws!  
  
Bluebell rapped on the gate. She waited, then knocked on it again.  
"P'raps it's an open-gate policy, eh wot?" she said to Kira.  
The enrobed animal shrugged. "Maybe," he said, still speaking in the  
high-pitched voice. "Or maybe you should knock harder."  
Runa, the abbey badger, heard the hard kick Bluebell gave to the gate.  
"Great seasons," she said, "you don't have to beat the poor gate up! Just  
open it!"  
"See, open gate policy," muttered Bluebell, fiddling with the lock.  
The hare and the fox stumbled in. Runa smiled. "And why are you here?"  
"To see the Abbot," chorused the pair. "I've got to deliver this  
message," added Bluebell, presenting it to the badger.  
"Ah. I see," said Runa, reading the note. She handed it back to  
Bluebell. "Come on in."  
As Runa led them down the hall, Ferrie, carrying a tray of candied  
chestnuts, bumped into Kira. Chestnuts flew everywhere, the tray shattered  
and Kira, Runa, Bluebell and Ferrie slipped on the chestnuts and landed with  
a sound THUD.  
Kira gritted his teeth again and Bluebell lay prone on the floor with  
a chestnut in her paw. But Runa got up right away.  
"You clumsy oaf!" she yelled. "You shattered the Abbot's tray, made a  
fine mess of Brother Sam's candied chestnuts and bowled over our two visitors!  
What do you have to say for yourself?"  
"S-sorry?" said Ferrie meekly.  
"You had better be," muttered Runa. "Now clean up this mess while you  
think of a way to explain to Abbot Grunn why his late mother's tray is  
missing!"  
"I'm dearly sorry, Mister and Missus...er, wot's your names?"  
Runa glared at Ferrie, but the two visitors didn't mind. "I'm Bluebell  
Longreeds," said the hare, quickly scarfing the chestnut, "captain of Lord  
Greataxe's Long Patrol. An' this," she added, gesturing to the fox, "is Dennon.  
Say, you didn't tell me much about yourself, sah. Why doncha tell this lovely,  
clumsy gel?"  
"Why not? I'm Dennon, er, Bushtail," said Kira. The high voice was  
quickly becoming second nature. "My mother and father abandoned me in the  
woods when I was but a babe, and so I grew up by myself. I had always admired  
this abbey, so I decided now was the right time to arrive with a gift to the  
Abbot, so that maybe he could accept me."  
Ferrie sniffed. "That's so sad an' yet so wonderful, mister Bushtail,  
sah. I'm sure the h'Abbot will let you in as soon as 'e 'ears your story!"  
"And so we'll go now and tell him, and you can start cleaning," said  
Runa.  
  
Grunn looked over the letter from Lord Greataxe with a worried  
expression.  
"Excuse me, sah," said Bluebell politely, "but wot does it say? I  
haven't read the note yet."  
Grunn cleared his throat. "It says that you are a fighting fit git,"  
he said. "No, I'm kidding. It says he sent you here to protect our Abbey,  
because a fox named Kira the Murderous is headed our way! Imagine that!"  
Kira was glad he had the robe on, because he broke out into a sweat.  
He hoped that Bluebell and the Redwallers wouldn't start see through him.  
"And what do you have for me?" said Grunn, looking up at Kira.  
The fox pulled out the bag of berries. "T-these are for y-you, sir,"  
he stuttered. "And any of your k-kind abbey b-beasts."  
"Or for me if you bally well don't like it at all!" said Bluebell with  
a twinkle in her eye.  
"Why, they're delicious!" exclaimed Grunn after trying one, much to  
Bluebell's dismay. "But they're too good to waste plain. Oh, I know! The  
anniversary of Redwall being built is coming up."  
"Yes, so?" said Runa.  
"We can get Brother Sam and Friar Abel to use these in their baking!"  
"Are they really that good?" said Runa skeptically. Grunn offered her  
one. "Why yes, they are!" said Runa, answering her own question as she wiped  
berry juice off her muzzle.  
"May I eat, marm?" said Bluebell. "Excuse me, but you never really  
told us your names."  
"Oh, right. I am Grunn Softspike, the Abbot, and this here is Runa,  
our resident badger."  
"Pleased t' meecha." Bluebell curtsied the best she could without a  
skirt.  
Kira's mind, however, was on other things. The anniversary. This meant  
a big party.  
A big opportunity for looting Redwall of all it contained.  
It was an ideal plan, but Kira felt a bit of guilt. After all, he had  
come here to reform, not to knock tricked Abbey beasts down like flies.  
One glance at the great Redwall tapestry changed his mind. This was,  
in the words of a hare, a "spiffin'" piece of fabric, probably worth more than  
all of his former troupe.  
He would strike soon, he knew. But when?  
  
Popra had plotted with Gera the other night. After they had come up with  
a plan they told the other tribe members what to do.  
"If you screw this up heads will roll!" said Gera, with a frightening  
glimmer in her eyes and a long sword in her hand. With that, she headed off,  
proclaiming, "I'm going to make myself look a fright!"  
"Shouldn't be too hard," muttered Jutta. Mat thwacked her upside the  
head with a ladle.  
"Doncha ever insult the second-in-command like that, dullears," Mat  
growled. "I bet you wouldn't say that about da, or ma, or Kerr!"  
"Oooh, I so scared," said Jutta, mockingly flattening her ears. "I  
an ickle Dibbun, an' I so scared of big scary Kerr!"  
Kerr unsheathed his sword. "Shut up," he said, pressing it against  
Jutta's neck.  
These were no abbeybeasts!  
  
Runa, out tending the gardens again, heard the weak knock on the gate.  
As she opened it, a ragged mouse stared up at her.  
"Missus, I am in need of food an' water," it croaked.  
Runa stood silent for a moment. Didn't the mighty Matthias the warrior  
start out like this?  
She decided to give the poor mouse the benefit of the doubt. "Come on  
in, then," she said.  
Gera smiled inwardly. If she could infiltrate the abbey, then she would  
surely be her father's heir! 


	3. The Heart of Noonvale - Chapter 3

The Heart of Noonvale  
Chapter 3  
  
Kira and Bluebell slept in an abandoned section of the abbey, Bluebell snoring  
away. Kira had his cloak over his ears, partly to muffle the sound.  
Ferrie was sent to check on the two. She opened the door partially, peering  
through with her candle in front of her.  
"Silly ole chap," she muttered upon seeing Kira. "'is pore ears'll suffercate  
if 'e keeps that thingy on them! I had better move 'em!"  
Quietly she crept forward, lifting the cloak. If Kira's ears had seven tails  
Ferrie couldn't have been more shocked.  
"We've a bloomin' fox among us!" she exclaimed, dropping the cloak over Kira's  
entire face. "Ooh, mister Dennon...the jig is up! I'll report ya to th'abbot!  
Hah hah hah!"  
  
  
Of course she couldn't, because the Abbot wouldn't speak to Ferrie after she  
had broken his deceased mother's tray.  
"Miz Runa, marm, there must be some way I can talk to th'abbot!" she exclaimed  
woefully as the badger was tending to their new addition, who called herself  
Gettat.  
"Perhaps he wants something of you," said Runa, placing a dish of candied  
chestnuts and meadowcream in front of Gettat.  
"P'raps," said Ferrie, wrinkling her nose. "Miz Runa, can I have some chestnuts  
'n meadowcream, too?"  
"No!" exclaimed Runa. "Neither I, nor the abbot, nor anybody in the abbey will  
ever let you within ten steps of a bowl of candied chestnuts anymore!"  
"But I said I was sorry! What's the bally matter, wot?" Ferrie's bushy tail  
flicked, distressed.  
"Excuse me for interfering," said Gettat, swallowing a chestnut, "but maybe  
you should ask the Abbot what he wants of you."  
"Good idea, Gettat!" said Runa. "Go now, Ferrie, before the Abbot can get  
really irritated."  
  
Ferrie gave a gentle knock on the door. "Mister Abbot, sah, can I enter?" she  
said meekly.  
"Oh, all right, as long as you don't have any trays," grumbled the abbot.  
Ferrie entered, head down but eyes peering upwards. "Mister Abbot Grunn, sah,  
miz Runa says that I should ask you wot I should do to replace your tray."  
Grunn sighed. "You cannot replace that tray with another tray for starters,  
Ferrie. My mother was a member of the Wandering Noonvale Troupe. Maybe if you  
can find them and state your purpose, they will give you something to replace  
it."  
Ferrie's head nodded insanely. "Jolly good idea, mister Abbot, sah! But where  
is the troupe?"  
"Somewhere, they don't call it wandering for nothing," said the Abbot. He  
took out the piece of parchment he had written upon and handed it to Ferrie.  
"Maybe this will help you."  
Ferrie examined it for a moment. "Hmmm. 'The one whose aim and heart are true'.  
Didn't miz Runa 'elp you with this one?"  
"Yes, she did, but she was stumped by the last two lines."  
Ferrie searched for them in the text.  
  
"'And the good-hearted enemy will see I  
And will lead you to the cat that cries'."  
  
Then Ferrie remembered why she had wanted to see the abbot. "Enemy! Mister  
Abbot, did ya know about Dennon?!?!"  
"Know what?" said the abbot, tense.  
"'e's a fox! We've a fox within the bally abbey walls!"  
"A fox! But...maybe he's the good-hearted enemy..."  
"Yah, well, maybe this 'Gettat' figure is, too! How will we know?"  
"Let's just figure out the first four for now," said the abbot soothingly. "Runa  
said that the one whose aim and heart are true is you, Ferrie, because you are  
our best archer. And you surely didn't break the tray with malicious intent."  
The abbot sighed.  
"Righto, so I'm going! And who's this lord then, huh?"  
"Dunno, some lord or other. But you'll probably find him soon. Next line!"  
"Find a hare with coloured fur. That's miz Bluebell, eh wot? How many hares  
d'you know with coloured fur?"  
"None at all, besides her," said the Abbot, "and I don't even know her well.  
Next line?"  
"And the mouse whose running makes him a blur. Hmmm, we've a lot of quick mice  
in this abbey, this one'll be a bit hard..."  
Suddenly Sam and Daniard burst in through the door bearing food, Sam holding  
the tray and Daniard keeping the door open. "Sir!"  
"Ah, some grub!" said Ferrie gleefully. "I haven't had a bite since breakfast!"  
"Breakfast was but an hour ago," said Daniard. "And the Abbot was not there. I  
know because I was the first there."  
Ferrie thought about Daniard's last last sentence. "That's it!" she exclaimed.  
"What's it?"  
"You're the mouse!"  
"I am?" said Daniard. "What's all this about?"  
"I'm goin' t'Noonvale!" Ferrie beamed.  
"To replace my tray," said the abbot grimly, sending the two mouse brothers  
into giggles.  
"T'ain't that funny!" said Ferrie, paws akimbo. "I bet you woulden laugh so  
'ard if you knew I found a fox in the abbey!"  
"You did?" said Sam, wheezing.  
"Never mind that," said the Abbot. "Ferrie and Daniard, go get Bluebell please."  
"You heard 'im, Dan...let's go!"  
  
"Well twoddle my dear auntie's whiskers," said Bluebell, scratching her head,  
"but I've never heard o' that before! I think your Abbot wasn't writing, 'twas  
some other beast!"  
"Like Martin the Warrior?" said Daniard.  
"Nevah heard o' him before, sah, so I don't know."  
Kira, in his cloak again, smiled. "Martin the Warrior was one of the greatest  
Abbeybeasts who ever lived, Bluebell. Mind your manners."  
"'Tis okay, sah," said Ferrie stiffly. "We're fine with outsidahs." She didn't  
like this "Dennon" knowing more about Redwall Abbey than a Long Patrol captain.  
"But I do agree with miss Bluebell, in that this journey serves a greater purpose  
than just replacing a broken heirloom tray."  
"Watch it," Ferrie growled, prodding Daniard.  
"Sorry."  
"Well, mister Dennon, I'm sorry t' leave ya, but I gotta go when th' bally  
Warrior says so! Ta-ta!"  
"Goodbye," said Kira. Ferrie, Daniard and Bluebell walked out.  
Kira smiled to himself. He had heard that Ferrie was the best shot in the Abbey.  
With her gone, he was almost safe to take the tapestry.  
  
"Bluebell, marm," said Ferrie, tugging on the hare's coat sleeve urgently, "there's  
something I must tell you."  
"Wot's that, Ferrie, ya clumsy ole gel?" Daniard giggled again at Bluebell's  
reply, only to be hit upon the ears by the squirrel.  
"I said stop it, Daniard!" But before Ferrie could report her findings, they  
reached the Abbot's chamber.  
The Abbot was already outside the door, smiling. "Ah yes, miss Bluebell. I  
hope you feel well."  
Bluebell nodded and saluted. "Fightin' fit, sah!"  
"Very good. Because we need all the help we can get! I trust you showed her the  
parchment, Ferrie and Dan?"  
"Yes, sir!"  
"Excellent. So the lord I think you will meet on your journey, and the enemy  
I do not know of."  
"Who's this I, if ya don't mind me asking, sah?"  
"Whoever made him write that," replied Daniard.  
"And have you figgered that out yet?"  
The abbot shook his head. "No."  
Ferrie noticed Brother Sam, Daniard's brother, hurrying into the kitchen with a  
steaming platter of fish.  
"Erm, mister Abbot, sah?"  
"Yes, what, Ferrie?"  
"Can we leave tomorrow, sah, because I'm flippin' famished and I don't want to  
miss out on Sam's fish!"  
  
That night, Kira had a strange dream... 


	4. The Heart of Noonvale - Chapter 4

The Heart of Noonvale  
Chapter 4  
  
Horacio J. Fourears sat gloomily on the grass, his floppy lilac hat drooping  
over his eyes.  
"What's th' matter now, matey?" said a member of his troupe, a skinny, sleek otter.  
"Wot? Oh, nothing, Coolum."  
"Y' look like ye just woke up, and ye say nothin'!" Coolum shook his head. "I  
dunno what you think, but I think ye should getcherself checked out!"  
"Well ah do declare!" said a skunk walking towards the otter and hare. "Don't you  
look lower than a snake's belly, mister Horacio! Now, what's th' matter with yah,  
dahling?"  
"Nothin's the bally matter with me!" said a perplexed Horacio. "And I do not  
resemble a flippin' snake's belly, marm!"  
"Ya would be th' worst-lookin snake's belly ah've evah seen," said the skunk. "And  
mah name ain't marm, sahr, it's Keelie."  
"Oh, wotever!"  
"Anyhoo, supper's ready, mateys, when yore ready." Coolum retreated to the caravan.  
"Tcha, all that chap can think about is his stomach!" grumbled Horacio.  
"Look who's a-talkin' thur!" said Keelie. "Anyways, why d' you look like yer auntie  
just keeled over?"  
Horacio sighed. "I feel a bit off coz I think something is coming to our caravan  
that'll get us in deep trouble!"  
"My, but you do have some imagination, mister Horacio!" said Sarah with a laugh.  
"Sure, laugh all ya bally want, but I suppose you've nevah heard o' Martin th'  
Warrior!"  
"Martin the who?"  
"Me ole daddy always used t' tell me about Redwall--or maybe it was Reedwall, I  
dunno--anyways, it's this abbey far, far in th' reaches of Mossflower Woods, an'  
all creatures there live peacefully."  
"Yeah, so? Why is thur a worrier or whatsit, then?"  
"They couldn't be entirely safe, so there was a chap called Martin the Warrior  
who protected Redwall while it was bein' built, doncha know. 'E was the greatest  
Abbey Warrior of them all, an' he still comes to some people in dreams and such."  
"Oh, that's just marvy!" said Keelie. "Maybe this worrier is tellin ya to move  
on befoah we's all get killed!"  
"So why don't we?"  
"Wahl, we still hafta practise a bit befoah we's gets an audience."  
"Nobeast wants to see the Wanderin' Noonvale Troupe any more, Sarah, ya strange  
ole gel, so I doubt we'll ever get an audience!!!"  
"Yore our spokesbeast," said Keelie meekly. "Why donchoo do a better job?"  
"Shaddup, you gigglewoppin flopeared stinkertailed stoat!"  
"Well ah do declare, that's a mean ole bit o' language for a res-pect-able hare  
like you! An' ah'm a skunk, ya hear me?"  
"Anyways, let's go into the van for sup. Arguing always works up an appetite, eh  
wot?"  
"Anythin' works up an appetite for you, ya varmint!"  
"I told you to shaddup, you knickerbockered floowah!"  
  
Kerr, from his lookout perch in the tree, peered at Redwall Abbey through all  
sorts of glasses.  
"I can see Gera in th' Abbey orchard, pickin' away."  
"That fool..." murmured Lalli, viciously slicing a trout.  
"It's night, ma, remember? An' besides, she's doin' it so stealthily and carefully  
I know there's nobeast else supposed to be pickin' fruit."  
"Is she gonna deliver it here, then?" said Hilar.  
"No, I made 'er promise she'll keep it safe at th' abbey," said Popra.  
"Fruit goes rotten," said Jutta, spitting into the fire.  
"Doncha spit into that fire no more," said Ingar. "Ye could put it out wit' all  
the slob yore horkin' in there!"  
"Oh, shaddup!" said Jutta, baring her teeth.  
"You shaddup!"  
"Stop yore argument right now," said Popra. A quiet tone was all he needed to  
maintain for his tribe to pay attention. "Or else there'll be more bloodshed than  
there would've been if you had just gone ahead an' fought."  
Jutta glared at Ingar, then turned around and started talking to the pine marten.  
"Close one," murmured Kerr. He kept a keen watch on Gera. Don't want the girl to  
get carried away in her picking, he thought. Those Redwallers might notice some  
fruit missing.  
"So, what was Kira the Murderous like, Patchtail?" said Jutta.  
The black fox Patchtail shivered. "'Twas awful, missus, plain awful. 'E sent us t'  
war with our stummicks stuck to th' back o' our spines. Starved us all. Luckily  
we've now got yer mum or we'd a died affer Kira left us."  
Another fox nodded. "I dunno why 'e left us, but I'm sure glad you picked us up."  
Jutta smiled thinly. "Flattery will getcha nowhere."  
  
Kira awoke with a jolt. Way in the another section of the abbey the now-sleeping  
Gera did as well.  
They had both dreamed of a warrior mouse with a large sword, killing enemies. As  
the last stoat fell before him the mouse said three words: "It is I."  
  
"Martin the Warrior?" said the Skipper, shaking his head. Kira had told Skipper of  
his dream.  
"It seemed like him. What other mouse fells enemies like stalks of wheat?"  
"Aw, Dennon, don't let it bother you," said Gera.  
"Thanks, Gettat." Neither mouse nor fox knew of the other's true identity. If they  
had, they would've treated each other with slightly less respect.  
Ferrie the squirrel walked into the dining hall just as Kira said, "At the end of  
the dream he said, 'It is I.'"  
"That's it! That's bally flippin' bloomin' it!"  
Otter, mouse and fox all looked at the squirrel jumping for joy in the air with  
funny expressions.  
"What're you doing, squirrel?" growled Gera, temporarily forgetting her "gentle  
orphaned waif" cover.  
Fortunately for her, Ferrie didn't notice the change. "Dennon here has seen the I  
mentioned in the thingummy Abbot Grunn wrote!"  
"Hey, I did too," said Gera defensively.  
"Yeah, but I know that Dennon is a--" Ferrie stopped short, clasping her paw over  
her mouth.  
"A what?" said Skipper.  
Kira's eyes narrowed. Then he dropped his hood. "Yes, that's right, squirrel, I'm a  
fox. Anything else?"  
"A fox!" Skipper was at Kira's throat in an instant.  
"It's okay, Skip, it's okay!" said Gera, prying the otter's paws off of the fox's  
neck. "He appears to be a good fox. As long as he doesn't pull any funny stuff--"  
Gera glared at Kira as if to say "you better not" "--I think he's safe to roam the  
abbey."  
"Wait a bloomin' second 'ere...you said you dreamed it too, Gettat?" said Ferrie.  
"Yeah, so?"  
"Only 'the good-hearted enemy will see I', Gettat. Are you sayin' you're not as good  
as we 'oped?"  
Gera turned slightly pale. "Erm..."  
"Anyways, let's see the Abbot," said Kira, changing the subject.  
  
  
  
AN: Hello! I just thought I might explain some things.  
Ingar is Popra's third son who I forgot to mention last time.  
I know it's strange that no one is willing to kill Kira right now. It will work out,  
you'll see.  
And in the second chapter, "Grunn Softspikes" becomes "Grunn Softspike". Oops. This  
is still the same hedgehog, just so ya know. 


	5. The Heart of Noonvale - Chapter 5

The Heart of Noonvale  
Chapter 5  
  
Bluebell's feet hurt, and their large size just made the pain spread out. They  
had been walking for two days now, stopping only after Kira and Ferrie had  
threatened to put their bows and arrows to good use.  
Daniard had told Bluebell about how Ferrie was the one whose aim was true.  
Bluebell didn't complain about stopping after she heard.  
Every night Bluebell wondered why she didn't just kill Kira then and there while  
he was asleep and she was on guard duty, munching sugared berries he made in  
spite of the disapproval he got from the rest of the group. But every night  
something held her back from pumelling him to death with her large feet.  
"I'm bally aching," she groaned, stopping to massage a sore left foot.  
"Oh, quicher whining," snapped Ferrie. "We're all bally achin'."  
"I didn't argue with you last night, duff-for-brains!"  
"Stop it!" bellowed Kira. No one bothered to argue with him. "Listen, we're  
all tired. We're all starving, with the exception of maybe Bluebell. If we stop,  
we stop. If we don't, we don't. Got that?"  
"I just hope I hear the singing of a wandering troupe soon," whimpered Daniard.  
"So, mister Bushtail," said Ferrie mockingly, "what do we do now?"  
"We rest, first," said Kira decidedly. "It's late, and everyone is quite grumpy.  
Let's set up camp."  
  
Gera threw an apple over the abbey wall, hoping for it to land where Raider the  
pine marten had stationed a group set to attack.  
"Whacha doin', miz Gedat?" asked a tiny mousebabe, chewing on an apple.  
"There was something out there that threw an apple at me," said Gera in a patient  
voice. "So I threw one back at him!"  
The mousebabe giggled. "Oh, youse is funny miz Gedat!"  
Gera smiled. "Now shoo! I think Runa Badgermum needs you for something!"  
The mousebabe ran off, giggling all the way.  
Gera turned back to the wall. She saw Patchtail, the black fox, raise a green  
piece of cloth, then a red, then a black.  
The signal!  
Gera turned around, took a smuggled apple out of her habit, and threw it, hitting  
Runa squarely between the ears.  
Annoyed, the badger turned around. "Which of you little jokers threw that?"  
No response, except for a few giggles. Runa turned back around.  
Gera threw another one.  
"Stop it! I mean it!"  
Gera suddenly threw nine apples, each hitting Runa in the same spot.  
It was enough. Runa collapsed, though still concious.  
"Oh my!" said Sister Heart, dropping her basket of pears. "Miss Runa! Runa!  
Answer me!"  
She got a few mumbles in response before the badger went limp.  
"Oh my!"  
"Now!" yelled Gera.  
Foxes, stoats and pine marten went charging, climbing over the abbey wall.  
"To me!" yelled Sister Heart, her voice almost drowned out by the sound of feet.  
Still, it worked, and beasts poured out of the abbey fully armed.  
Gera took a scimitar from Raider. "The abbey will be ours!"  
A long bloody battle ensued, during which the heads of several rats got hacked  
off and the abbey nearly lost three Dibbuns armed with sticks after they charged  
into the fray. Sister Heart, with several underripe apples in hand, fended off  
the rats attacking them.  
Gera nearly missed getting impaled on a long fish knife, but she killed Sister  
Heart and almost killed Runa, who was quite trampled already.  
A wave of arrows hit two foxes and nineteen rats. Raider, Patchtail and the rest  
scrambled off, Gera mysteriously disappearing.  
"Sista!" screamed the Dibbuns.  
"Miz Gedat--is--so--mean!" bawled the mousebabe.  
"I can't believe it," said Heart's sister Tulip. "I just can't believe it."  
Runa was carried into the abbey.  
  
Popra Redclaws paced the ground, back and forth, back and forth.  
"This is insanity!" he screeched. "If a bunch of wimpy abbeybeasts armed with  
cutlery can murder Yelloweye and Blinkeared"--those were the two foxes killed--  
"as well as some rats, think of what they do with swords!"  
"At least they weren't our best," said Mat.  
"Rats are rats, and ye cannot call Yelloweye and Blinkeared the worst!"  
"But we have notified them, and they are on their guard," said Kerr. "Soon they  
will have tunnels and such. And it is when they are feeling secure that we shall  
attack!"  
"I knew I had one wise child," said Popra approvingly. "Yes, we shall follow yore  
plan, Kerr. But I trust Gera will do her work."  
"She made a nice job on that badger and the dormouse," said the fox Hooknose from  
the back.  
"Aye, that she did. Nice use of unripe apples!" The whole camp burst into laughter  
after Popra gave them a twisted smile, baring one sharp fang.  
"So when'll we attack them?" said Jutta.  
"When Gera gives the signal again, dullears!" replied Ingar.  
"Shaddup!"  
"You shaddup!"  
"I think this is where we came in," murmured Raider to Hooknose and Patchtail.  
  
He lay in wait in the forest. The White Badger had come to him in the night and  
told him to wait in the spot he was now for brave warriors to come along.  
"I am here, I am here," he murmured to himself. "I am here, I am here, Eulalia."  
"I am--"  
He never finished. 


End file.
